by Carsen Taite
A small part of Morgan felt guilty for not confiding her affair to Yolanda. She decided a confession at this point would merely complicate matters, and since the affair was over, the complication was unnecessary.
Morgan spent the next hour devising a method to select her trial team. She wanted to make the announcement in class and select the students by the end of the week so they could begin working. She decided she would take Jim Spencer up on his offer to help her out. She would convince him and Yolanda to do the judging. Then Yolanda would be solely responsible for making sure Gerald made the team, and surely Parker’s innate talents would win her a place on the team. Morgan had every confidence in Parker’s talent.
*
Dex pushed Parker along as they made their way to Morgan’s office. “Come on, don’t you want to find out if we made it?”
“We, huh? What if only one of us made the team?”
Dex punched her in the arm. “Not a chance. We’re the two musketeers!”
Parker couldn’t help but catch his infectious grin. “You dope, it’s three, not two, musketeers.”
Dex stopped in front of the closed office door and ran his finger over the index card taped under Morgan’s nameplate. When he turned to face Parker his grin was gone.
“As usual, you’re right, but you’ll probably be sorry you were.”
Parker pushed past him trying to get to the door. “What the hell?” She ran her finger along the posted names. “Damn, how the hell did he make it?”
“They need three musketeers?” Dex offered.
“Whatever. I can’t work with him. This is going to be hard enough,” Parker muttered. She wished she hadn’t spoken the last words out loud, but having to work side by side with Morgan was going to be enough of a challenge without having Gerald Lopez in the mix. How in the world had he made the team, she wondered. He had the trial skills of a gnat.
“Oh, lighten up. His daddy probably bought him a place on the team. Don’t worry. With our combined expertise, his ineptitude will barely be noticed.”
Parked frowned. “What scares me is no one seemed to notice in the first place.” She resolved to let it go, but she was having a hard time shaking the disappointment of knowing Gerald Lopez had been picked for the trial team. Maybe his father’s influence did have something to do with it, which almost made it worse since it meant Morgan had succumbed to conventional pressure rather than doing what was right. Parker had had her fill of people who didn’t possess the courage of their convictions. That she had had to sue her former employer, the Dallas Police Department, to make them admit they had wronged her still rankled. That she had lost a friend and lover because the other woman, her partner on the force, had refused to admit the same wrong cut Parker to the core. She knew it was naïve, but she had expected more integrity from Morgan. Wistfully, Parker realized keeping her relationship with Morgan strictly within the bounds of teacher and student was probably for the best.
*
Morgan debated canceling the meeting. She and Ford had scheduled their first meeting with the students who would be working on the trial team for this afternoon, but he called to say he was stuck in court and to go on without him. She had spent time reviewing the bare-bones police report Ford had obtained from the prosecutor, so she was prepared to discuss the basic facts of the case and the work to be done. What she wasn’t prepared for was working with Parker in such close proximity. The last few weeks in the large classroom setting had been difficult enough. She should never have gone to the bar that last time. She couldn’t deny the attraction, but she certainly didn’t have to put herself in the path of destruction. And there was no doubt that continuing to act on her attraction to her student would be destructive. The lack of sleep and focus she experienced now were mere precursors of the havoc she was sure to experience if she had sex with Parker again.
A knock on the door startled Morgan from her thoughts. As the students entered, she made a command decision to move the meeting from her office to the classroom. She met Gerald and Dex halfway to the door.
“It’s a bit cramped in here. Let’s take this to the classroom.” Morgan led the way, her glance sweeping the hall, but Parker was nowhere in sight. Dex, perhaps seeing her looking around, offered, “She’s on her way. She had a little bit of trouble with her baby.” At Morgan’s raised eyebrows, he continued, “Her car. It may as well be a baby, the way she takes care of it.”
“She should junk that old thing and get some new wheels.” Gerald’s tone was disdainful.
Dex punched him on the arm. “You only wish you could handle a beast like that. Her Mustang could take your bright, shiny Beemer any day of the week.”
Morgan felt herself start to defend Parker’s method of transportation, but she bit back the words when she realized she didn’t have an explanation for why she should even know what kind of car Parker drove. She did know, though, and the memory of her last ride in the Mustang was a mixture of pleasure and regret.
“I thought we were meeting in your office.” Parker looked flushed and out of breath. A stray lock of hair fell across her eyes and Morgan longed to reach over and brush it away. She resisted the urge and focused her attention on the door to the classroom.
“I decided we’d have more room in here.”
The group settled near the front of the class and Morgan passed around copies of the indictment and gave them a few minutes to look it over. The group already knew the case involved Camille Burke’s murder. Since Camille had been a student at the school, Morgan wanted to make sure no one who tried out for the team had any conflicts about working on the defense team representing the man who was accused of murdering the young student.
“Luis Chavez was the handyman for the Burke family. He was working inside the house the night Camille was killed. He was arrested and the grand jury indicted him for murder last week. We’ll be assisting the chief public defender on this case. You’ll meet him tomorrow at the DA’s office. We have a meeting scheduled at two o’clock to look at the evidence the prosecutor has developed in the case. The meeting tomorrow is a hunt and gather session. We’re not there to talk about the facts, negotiate, or discuss the law. We’ll listen, look, and walk away. Once we have seen and copied their evidence, then we’ll analyze it and work out a strategy for developing our defense.
“Now, here’s the deal. When I graduated from law school, I didn’t know jack about the real world of criminal law except some random snippets of information I gathered working on petty crime cases at the public defender’s office. The first time I was hired to be lead counsel on a murder case, I nearly threw up every day until it was over.” Morgan surveyed their expectant looks. “So, even though I understand you have all worked as interns in this field, I’m going to assume you know nothing about working a felony case, let alone a murder case, until I see otherwise. Fair enough?” Gerald and Dex nodded, but Parker seemed distracted and Morgan wanted her attention. “Parker, why don’t you explain what an indictment is?”
“It’s a charging instrument.”
“In English.”
“It’s a document that sets forth the allegations of the case. It puts the defendant on notice as to what the State has to prove in order to get a conviction.”
“How does someone get indicted?”
“The State presents evidence to the grand jury and, if the grand jury believes there is enough evidence to establish probable cause both that a crime occurred and that the defendant committed it, then they return a true bill of indictment, which is a formal charge.”
“How much proof do you need to show probable cause?”
Parker broke the stream of robotic, technical answers. “Not much.” Dex and Gerald laughed and Morgan realized that in her attempt to be more formal with Parker, her questioning technique had become more like an interrogation.
“Look, there’s no need for this to be so formulaic. You’ve had a chance to look over the indictment. It will be our guide for determining whether the State h
as enough to get a conviction. We’ll see their actual evidence tomorrow, but for now, I’ve got copies of the probable cause affidavit for you to review.” Morgan handed out stapled packets to each of her students. Ford had delivered the document to her office earlier and she had skimmed it before meeting with them. She was anxious to hear their reaction to the uphill battle the team was about to face.
“What’s this?” Gerald asked.
“Dex, want to answer that?” Morgan asked.
“It’s kind of a summary of the police report. The investigating officers have to swear out an affidavit in order to get an arrest warrant.” He shook the papers in his hand. “These should give us an idea of what evidence they have against Luis.”
“Right. Take a moment to look it over.” Morgan waited for the several minutes it took each of them to read over the document before continuing. “Okay, what can you tell me about our case?”
Gerald was the first to respond. “We’re screwed.”
As much as she didn’t like him, Morgan had to laugh at the raw truth of Gerald’s conclusion. “All right then. Let’s pretend for a minute you work for the other side. Gerald, what are the strong points of your case?”
“What aren’t the strong points?” he replied sarcastically. “The guy was seen standing over Camille Burke’s dead body with a gun in his hand. He ran off and hid from the police. And as if that weren’t enough, his fingerprints were on the gun and his boot prints are all over the scene.”
Gerald’s bluster got under Morgan’s skin and she silently cursed Yolanda for forcing her to make Gerald part of the team. “First of all, our client has a name—Luis. He’s not ‘the guy,’” Morgan said. “His liberty is in our hands, so let’s not forget he’s a real person, not an abstract suspect.” She turned to Dex and Parker. “Either of you see anything in the affidavit that’s helpful to our case?”
Dex was the first to respond. His tone was more respectful than Gerald’s, but his conclusion was the same. “Not really, no.” He shook his head. “Things look pretty bleak for Mr. Chavez.”
Parker’s expression told Morgan she had her own opinion about the matter. “Parker, what do you think?”
“Frankly, it doesn’t surprise me that everything in this report points to Luis as the killer. After all, the police wrote it. I think that once they heard the details about Luis at the murder scene, they didn’t look for another suspect.” Parker’s expression turned grim. “Having said that, I have to say defending Luis is going to be tough. Especially since there doesn’t appear to be evidence pointing to anyone else.”
Morgan was glad to know someone besides her didn’t let the daunting prospect of defending against the odds cancel out the fact the police report was naturally biased. Smart and handsome. Makes her even harder to resist. “You’re absolutely right. Refuting the State’s evidence is going to be difficult, and we’re not going to get any help from the other side. So we better get started.”
Morgan spent the rest of the hour leading the group through the litany of proof the State would need and that they would have to counter. She continued to be impressed with Parker’s command of the law and wondered how Parker came by her extensive knowledge. She almost asked, but caution held her back. She was reluctant to engage Parker more than the other students in the group, partly because she was concerned her feelings would show through. The last thing she needed was for the rest of the class to think she had a crush on one of her students, but that was exactly how she felt.
*
The cases Parker had worked on the past summer in neighboring Tarrant County hadn’t prepared her for the jittery feeling coursing through her as she walked through the familiar courtroom doors. Assisting the court public defender meant paying your dues by working out easy pleas, serving as gofer during trial, and, occasionally if she was lucky, getting to cross-examine a nonsubstantive witness. She hadn’t minded the busywork; it gave her exposure to the way things were done on the other side and beefed up the experience on her résumé. Working on this case would be different. Though she’d spent years working as a homicide detective, she had yet to work a murder case from the other side.
Morgan and the others hadn’t arrived. Parker glanced at her watch and noted she was a few minutes early. The team was gathering at the courthouse for a meeting with the prosecutor and the lead detective on the case to review the evidence in the file. They would also be meeting with Ford Rupley, the public defender who would be working with them on the case. Parker knew Ford and wondered if he would remember her. He was the most talented attorney at the PD’s office and she often wondered why he didn’t strike out on his own in private practice.
Parker entered the first set of double doors to Criminal District Court 10 and looked through the windows on the inner doors and noted with the exception of the bailiffs, the courtroom was empty. She glanced at the doors on either side of her. The one on the right led to the DA workroom. She had spent hours in these workrooms, one of which was located in each court. Assistant district attorneys spent their mornings in these rooms, meeting with defense attorneys, interviewing witnesses, and preparing cases for trial. In the afternoons, the die-hard prosecutors stayed in the cramped workroom, while those using the job as a stepping stone to higher-paying nongovernment jobs adjourned to tiny individual offices on the eleventh floor of the building. Parker started toward the slightly open door on the right before she caught herself and turned instead to the less familiar door on her left, the defense counsel workroom. As she turned the knob, she winced at the sound of a familiar voice behind her.
“Casey?”
Parker turned slowly and stood face-to-face with her former lover, Skye Keaton. She stifled a low moan at the raw energy crackling between them and bit out her words.
“Skye. It’s been a long time.”
Skye Keaton’s usually stoic face was flushed, but Parker didn’t truly register the impact of their reunion until she felt Skye’s hand grasp her arm. The touch, though brief and light, branded her with memories. They stood in the tiny hall lined with doors as people pushed past, but to Parker it felt like they were completely alone.
Skye broke the silence and gave Parker a frank appraisal. “You look good, Parker.”
Parker traded looks with equal measure. Detective Skye Keaton looked exactly the same as she had the last time Parker had seen her, tall and blond with velvet gray eyes sporting a jaunty glint. Time had been kind to her former partner in the homicide department of the DPD. “So do you. Bet you never thought you’d see me back here.”
“Not again, no, I didn’t.” Skye stared hard into Parker’s eyes. “You’re not in trouble, are you?” A softness broke through her cop’s tough tone and Parker was touched.
“Good afternoon, Parker.” They started at the approach of Morgan Bradley. Spell broken, Parker registered how close she was standing to Skye, and the flash of Morgan’s eyes told her she had noticed.
Morgan stuck out a hand in Skye’s direction. “I’m Morgan Bradley. And you are?”
Skye shook Morgan’s outstretched hand. “Detective Keaton.”
“I see. Aren’t you the lead on the Burke case?” At Skye’s nod, Morgan continued. “Then you’ll be joining us?”
“Us?” Skye shot a questioning look at Parker. “Uh, yes. I think we’re meeting in the jury room. I’ll get Gibson and meet you there.” Skye looked at Parker again and shook her head before stepping into the DA workroom.
“Do you know her?” Morgan asked, her tone a blend of curiosity and suspicion.
“I used to.” Parker let her answer fall flat. She hadn’t had a moment alone with Morgan since seeing her at the vigil for Camille Burke. The last thing she wanted to do in these few seconds was to talk about Skye Keaton. “Morgan, I—”
Skye emerged from the workroom with a skinny blonde in tow, cutting Parker’s words short. “Parker Casey, Morgan Bradley, this is Valerie Gibson. She’s prosecuting the case.”
Gibson asked, “Shall we get sta
rted?”
“Lead the way. Ford’s trapped in a hearing, but we’re expecting two others and they should be here shortly. They—” Morgan stopped short as the outer doors opened and Gerald and Dex walked through. “Here they are. Let’s get started.”
Gibson ran the show, but it was obvious Skye’s knowledge of the case far outweighed the young prosecutor’s. Skye laid out the evidence she and her partner, Detective Peterson, had gathered, which included the autopsy and ballistics reports, crime scene photos, statements from various employees of the Burke household, and the most damning evidence of all, Teddy Burke’s statement placing Luis over Camille Burke’s dead body. As Skye outlined the evidence against Luis, she was as cocky as Parker remembered.
“As you can see here, we have a ballistics match on the gun and Chavez’s prints were all over it. As if that weren’t enough, Chavez’s boot prints were all over the scene, and when he was arrested he was wearing the very same boots, with traces of the vic’s blood on the soles. I guess he was too busy running from his deed to think about buying new shoes.” Parker winced at Skye’s sarcastic tone.
“Detective, I assume you are prepared to provide us with copies of any statements you obtained from our client?” Morgan was the only one who would ask any questions during the meeting.
Skye shot Morgan a withering glance that Parker knew she reserved for all defense attorneys, but Morgan just smiled. “He admitted to being there, all right, but he just made up some crazy story about how he just found the body. Claims he didn’t kill her.”
Morgan pressed her. “And you have a copy for us to review?”
“Sure. You’re welcome to review all the damning evidence against your client before he goes to the pen.”
“Thank you.” Morgan’s tone was syrupy sweet. “I’ll be sure to take a careful look at everything.”
Parker was miserable for the entire hour they spent in the meeting. Morgan was distant, barely looking her way. Parker ached to talk to Morgan privately and resented the need to explain the interaction with Skye. While competing emotions warred within, outwardly she made a show of carefully reviewing the evidence and filed away her thoughts to be shared when the air was clear.
